The Truth Behind the Tour
by Wonkaverse
Summary: Everyone knows the story: after years of seclusion, Willy Wonka opens his gates to five children. Secretly, he wants an heir, and will test the kids to find who is worthy. But what happened to those who did not pass? Rated M because you wouldn't read it to kids as a bedtime story.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: All material of familiarity is owned, copyrighted, and otherwise credited to the parties to which it belongs, that being Roald Dahl, who penned the book from which this story and its chapters are adapted, and perhaps Warner Bros. Studios for the production of the film adaptations of Dahl's book. This story merely borrows the characters for use in a different reality...

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><p>CH I: The Tour Begins<p>

Everyone knows the story: after years of keeping himself and his factory out of the public eye, Willy Wonka, the great candymaker, stages a worldwide contest. Five Golden Tickets hidden within five very special bars of Wonka's chocolate candy, unmarked and otherwise indistinguishable from their thousands upon thousands of fellows...by finding these tickets, five very lucky children earn the pleasure and privilege of touring the great Wonka factory. But this tour is more than an idle amusement; it is a test. Mr. Wonka is, in fact, searching for the heir to his empire, a child with the proper mind and spirit to eventually become the head of the world's greatest candy company. Four of the children do not reach the end of the tour, their own greedy and selfish natures leading them into mishaps along the way…they are ultimately sorted out with little harm, of course, and perhaps even learn a lesson. And then there is Charlie Bucket, the unassuming boy who passes Wonka's test and becomes the chosen inheritor of all that Wonka possesses.  
>The search for an heir, as yet unclouded by the tragedies which lay ahead, is perhaps the most famous part of the great Willy Wonka's life. The tale of Charlie Bucket has been recreated in the book <em>Charlie and the Chocolate Factory<em>, which has in turn been adapted twice to the silver screen. But while the basics of the light and whimsical tale are accurate, certain details were edited in the interests of the public. And while Augustus Gloop, Violet Beauregarde, Veruca Salt, and Mike Teavee did emerge from the factory, the full details of what happened to them inside have never been fully revealed...

Record 1133, Wonka Archives  
>(CLASSIFIED)<p>

PLEASE NOTE THAT THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS ORIGINAL SECURITY RECORDINGS FROM THE WONKA ARCHIVES. THIS FOOTAGE HAS NOT BEEN EDITED OR ADJUSTED IN ANY WAY.

UNCENSORED MATERIAL MAY APPEAR AT ANY TIME FOLLOWING THIS MESSAGE.

_Facility 01, England_

"Well, this is it," the Security Chief said, popping his neck and cracking his knuckles before sitting down at one of the two chairs in front of the main monitor bank, "For better or worse."  
>The other Duty Officer winced as his companion's joints gave a final loud snapping sound, and the Chief sat. At the rest of the workstations around the Security Center, twenty other Oompa-Loompas were already at their posts, the room dark except for the light coming from the computer screens. The Duty Officer, for one, was uneasy. "Honestly, sir, I just hope that Mr. Wonka knows what he's doing. It makes me nervous…we have the first visitors in a decade, a bunch of kids, no less…and we don't even have proper cordons established. If just one of them should slip something into a pocket along the tour, we could lose millions…"<br>"Will you relax, kid?" The Chief grinned. "The boss will be with 'em the whole time. He'll keep an eye on things. And when you've worked with him as long as I have, you learn to 'walk by faith,' if you will. Mr. Wonka knows what he's doing."  
>"I know, but all the same…" At that instant, however, an electronic warning tone chimed over the room's speaker system, and whatever the Duty Officer might have been about to say died instantly in his throat. He dropped his headset into place and pulled a keyboard out from the monitor bank, the Security Chief doing the same next to him.<br>The Chief looked back at the other Loompas in the room, the digital clock above the main monitor bank now showing eighteen seconds until the exact stroke of 10 A.M. "Here we go, people…let's keep this thing smooth and by the numbers. Fifteen seconds…open all camera feeds, all rooms, all sections…route and switch primary surveillance to the main screen; I want to be following the tour group every step of the way. All other stations will keep an eye on the adjoining rooms…make sure no one wanders off, people. Ten seconds…give me eyes on the front gate…thank you…seven…six…boost the audio…four…three…two…" The view on the primary screen was now looking down from the roof of the factory, giving an expansive view of the front courtyard and the huge main gates. The murmur of the crowd gathered outside for the start of the historic tour was suddenly drowned out by the deep tolling of the bells of the enormous church three streets away, as they struck ten o'clock… "Cue main gates," the Chief said, and the immense iron barriers begin to swing slowly open. A cheer went up from the crowd outside, cameras flashing and reporters jostling each other to be the nearest to the small group of people right in the front…  
>"Looks like we got our hopefuls," the Duty Officer said, his tone genuinely curious.<br>"Let's see if we can't get a closer look." The Chief reached over to a small joystick located beside his keyboard and pushed it forward, zooming the camera in on the five children and their family members. "Damn. Can't get it to zero in enough. We'll have to wait until they're in the Atrium."  
>"Where's Mr. Wonka?" the Duty Officer asked, and the Chief groaned. "What is it, sir?"<br>"I think he's going to subject them to that horrible puppet show."  
>"You mean the one that gives me nightmares?"<br>"Yeah."  
>And indeed the Chief was right; the children, each accompanied by one member of their family, made their way forward into the expansive courtyard, their faces bearing a mixture of excitement and confusion. Obviously they expected a more direct greeting…when the side of the nearest building slid open, they turned expectantly, but were met by…the Chief and the Duty Officer shot each other sideways glances as the mechanical puppet show unfolded, their dubious looks mirrored on the faces of the people in the courtyard. As the puppets' distinctive "theme song" reached its first chorus, the Duty Officer began loudly bashing his face on the control panel, at least until… "Hello! I don't think that's part of the program!" The Duty Officer looked up just in time to see the first puppet bursting completely into flames, some short in the electrical system turning the entire show into a rather violent display of malfunctioning fireworks and melting plastic. And, while they were distracted, Mr. Wonka had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, now standing directly behind his guests as the puppet show came to a fiery conclusion. He startled both the children and the adults when he at last announced his presence and began to introduce himself…meanwhile, both the Duty Officer and the Chief were still watching molten plastic dripping out onto the snowy ground.<br>"You know, I enjoyed it a lot more that time."  
>"You and me both."<p>

Just outside the main doors, Mr. Wonka stopped and shook the hand of each guest as they passed; giving every one of them a long and enthusiastic shake. No one saw the tiny flashes of light as Wonka's gloves read fingerprint patterns and sent them via wireless link to the Security Center, where they were received, processed, and matched with known databases. Almost instantly, an alert popped up. "Sir, we have something! Mr. Theodore Salt, owner and administrator of a major nut company...he has business connections to several of our competitors: Fickelgruber, Prodnose..."  
>"Copy that," the Chief said. "Station Two, Mr. Salt is now your responsibility. I want to know where that man is at all times...and where his hands are. He picks anything up, I want to know about it. Any others?"<br>"We have an old gentleman who matches up with our records; according to this, he was one of Mr. Wonka's former employees. Want to keep an eye on him?"  
>"Where did he go when he left here?"<br>"Retired, sir."  
>"Don't worry about it, then. Keep him on standard surveillance."<br>"Yes, sir."

The Chief and the Duty Officer watched as Mr. Wonka began leading the tour out of the Atrium and into the corridors of the factory, conversing cheerfully with his guests. "I think we may need another contest," the Chief growled darkly.  
>The Duty Officer glanced over. "Why do you say that, sir?"<br>"Are you kidding me? Look at them!"  
>"What about the kid on the end?"<br>"The scruffy one? Don't know about him...he hasn't gotten any coverage in the press or anything. I guess it could be him, assuming he lives up to Mr. Wonka's expectations."  
>"You mean if he makes it to the end of the tour."<br>"Yeah, basically." The Chief flashed a nasty grin, and the Duty Officer shook his head. "What?"  
>"Don't you feel any guilt about picking off these kids one by one?"<br>The Chief gave an exasperated sigh. "Look, it's not like we're going to make bad things happen to these kids on purpose. We've taken every precaution to avoid accidents, and Mr. Wonka is doing everything he can to warn them about potential hazards in advance. If anything does happen, it will be by the deliberate actions of the victim. It's a test of character."  
>"What about the predictions?"<br>"It's only a computer simulation. The probabilities don't mean anything; there's an overwhelming chance that all of them will finish the tour without any trouble at all. Hold that thought. All right...the tour is entering the Chocolate Room."  
>And indeed they were. Mr. Wonka gave his opening exposition, and then turned his guests loose to enjoy the magnificence of the chamber. It was not long before someone spotted the Oompa-Loompas gathered on the far side of the chocolate river; three entire shifts had turned out just to see the visitors, and it did not take long before they were laughing and shaking their heads. Mr. Wonka began cheerfully explaining the history of the Oompa-Loompas and how he imported them to England (leaving out the ugly details about customs). But there was one guest who was not listening; oblivious to all but his own stomach, Augustus Gloop was lumbering along like some sort of land-clearing machine, literally tearing up and devouring the ground in front of him.<br>"That's disgusting," the Duty Officer said, shaking his head slowly. "You know, I think I've had a change of heart about this. The sooner they get that one off the tour, the better."  
>"A hundred cacao beans says the Salt girl goes before he does."<br>"I'll take that bet. And I'll even raise it. Another hundred says Gloop won't make it out of the chocolate room."  
>"Two hundred? All right; you're on."<br>The implacable Augustus Gloop was steadily moving along the nearer bank of the chocolate river, but then he turned...and headed straight for it. The Duty Officer shot up straighter in his chair. "Oh...crap."  
>"What?" The Chief saw where his subordinate was looking, and his eyes widened.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: All material of familiarity is owned, copyrighted, and otherwise credited to the parties to which it belongs, that being Roald Dahl, who penned the book from which this story and its chapters are adapted, and perhaps Warner Bros. Studios for the production of the film adaptations of Dahl's book. This story merely borrows the characters for use in a different reality...

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><p>CH II: Good-bye, Agustus<p>

"Augustus!" cried Mrs. Gloop in her heavily-accented English. "Augustus, sweetheart, I don't think you had better be doing that!" Augustus Gloop was down on his hands and knees on the steep bank of the river, scooping hot melted chocolate into his mouth as fast as he could. And not only was he sticking his hands in it, but some of the chocolate in his mouth was dribbling back out to contaminate the river with saliva and bits of other things that had gotten stuck in Augustus' teeth. The Duty Officer and the Chief both fought off an attack of nausea, horrified but unable to look away. Willy Wonka turned then, and his cheerful smile froze on his face. The overhead camera picked up a series of rapid twitches; first his neck twitched, and then his cheek, and then his right eye twitched several times in quick succession.  
>And then, finally, he managed to speak. "No! Please, Augustus, I beg you! My chocolate must be untouched by human hands!" Mr. Wonka clapped both hands to his head, looking quite deranged.<br>"Augustus!" called out Mrs. Gloop. "Didn't you hear what the nice man said? Come away from that river at once!" But Augustus took no notice, now stretching out full-length on the bank to suck the chocolate down with his mouth. "Augustus, you'll be giving that nasty cold of yours to about a billion people," his mother said in a vain attempt to appeal to her son's higher logic, but he was oblivious.  
>"You must come away!" cried Wonka. "You are dirtying my chocolate!"<br>"Augustus!" cried Mrs. Gloop. "Be careful! You're leaning too far..." But it was too late. There was a shriek, and then a splash, and fortunately Mrs. Gloop's cry of alarm kept anyone else from hearing the word that the Duty Officer distinctly saw Mr. Wonka mouth on the video monitor.  
>"Save him!" Mrs. Gloop screamed, swinging her purse around and nearly smashing Mike Teavee in the face. "He can't swim! Augustus!" But it was already too late. Augustus Gloop popped up, bawling his head off...once, twice, three times...each time he fought his way to the surface in a different place, moving steadily upstream...and then it became apparent why.<br>"Oh..." the Duty Officer and the Chief both stared at the object in the center of the camera's view; one of the massive collection pipes which carried chocolate to all the rooms in the factory had descended from the ceiling, and was now pulling hundreds of gallons up from the river...along with Augustus Gloop. He gave a final shout of something that sounded like "hell," though it was actually a drawn-out "help" cut short...and then he disappeared beneath the surface, sucked into the swirling undertow at the mouth of the pipe. The crowd on the riverbank waited breathlessly to see if he would reappear, and then, spectacularly, the enormous bulk of Augustus Gloop rocketed headfirst up through the transparent pipe. But he quickly began to slow...and then stuck fast.  
>"Sir," came a voice from the back of the Security Center. "Engineering's reporting a problem with collection pipe G32...their vacuum readings are normal, but Processing is reporting there's nothing flowing on their end."<br>"I know," the Chief replied. "I'm looking at a rather significant blockage. Can they boost the pumps?"  
>"I'll tell them to try, sir."<br>The Duty Officer had a fist pressed nervously to his lips as he watched the main feed. "This is not good...this is not good at all..." A state of solid vacuum existed in the pipe above Augustus Gloop; his eyes bulged out of his head, and he waved one arm wildly while the other clutched at his throat, as if reaching for oxygen that wasn't there. Meanwhile, liquid chocolate was building up below at tremendous pressure...both the Duty Officer and the Chief involuntarily pushed back from the screen, knowing that whatever happened was about to be ugly...but unable to look away all the same...  
>Finally, there was a tremendous BANG, a sort of explosion, and Augustus Gloop shot up the pipe like a bullet. The Duty Officer tried very hard to tell himself that the horrible sound of ripping flesh he had heard was just his imagination, though he doubted it. "Track and follow!" the Chief cried. "And tell someone to shut down the system; we have a foreign object in the pipes! Where does G32 go?"<br>"To the room where we make strawberry-flavored chocolate-coated fudge, sir. They've been notified, but the pumps will take at least thirty seconds to shut down..." The view on the monitors changed to show another section of service conduit, a collection of chocolate pipes running through it...Augustus Gloop was visible hurtling down the length of the nearest, and the Duty Officer could no longer pretend that the chocolate was not turning faintly red behind him. Ahead the pipe turned, and though the flow of chocolate was steadily decreasing, both the Chief and the Duty Officer came to the same conclusion at roughly the same instant...The camera view cut to show the inside of the Strawberry Fudge Room, where workers were frantically trying to seal off the pipe; the cutoff valve closed, but not nearly quick enough. Augustus Gloop, or at least most of him, shot through just as the mechanism sealed, and went right into the waiting mouth of the fudge production machine. A waving arm disappeared between a set of grinding cogwheels, and a horrible series of screams echoed from inside as something large and heavy banged around within. Wheels turned, hammers pounded, and cutters sliced...something sticky and red oozed from the machine's overflow vents, and what came out at the far end was most definitely not strawberry-flavored, though it was coated in chocolate. All of the workers drew back, horrified, and the Chief pressed one of the intercom buttons.  
>"Security detail to the Strawberry Fudge Room, please. Escort everyone out and give them the rest of the day off." The Chief looked over at the Duty Officer, who was sitting in his chair paralyzed with horror. "Well, score one for you."<p>

"He's disappeared!" yelled Mrs. Gloop. "Where does that pipe go? Quick! Help! Call the fire brigade!"  
>"Keep calm, dear lady!" cried Mr. Wonka, though his own expression was anything but calm. "I assure you, Augustus is in no...um...danger. No danger whatsoever! He's just gone on a little journey, that's all, an interesting little journey. But he'll come out of it just fine, you wait and see."<br>"How can he possibly come out just fine!" snapped Mrs. Gloop, again waving her purse energetically and smacking Mr. Teavee in the head so hard that his glasses flew off. "He'll be made into marshmallows in five seconds!"  
>"Impossible!" cried Mr. Wonka. "Unthinkable! Inconceivable! Absurd! He could never be made into marshmallows!"<br>"And just why is that, may I ask?" shouted Mrs. Gloop.  
>"Because that pipe doesn't even go to the Marshmallow Room!" Mr. Wonka said, exasperated, as if he were explaining a difficult concept to a particularly dense layman. "It doesn't go anywhere near it! That pipe happens to lead directly to the room where I make a most delicious kind of strawberry-flavored chocolate-coated fudge..."<br>"Then he'll be made into strawberry-flavored chocolate-coated fudge!" screamed Mrs. Gloop. "My poor Augustus! They'll be selling him by the pound all over the country tomorrow morning!"  
>"He'll be perfectly safe, I assure you," Wonka said calmly.<br>"He'll be chocolate fudge!" shrieked Mrs. Gloop.  
>"Never!" cried Mr. Wonka.<br>"Of course he will!" shrieked Mrs. Gloop.  
>"I wouldn't allow it!" cried Mr. Wonka.<br>"And why not?" shrieked Mrs. Gloop.  
>"Because the taste would be terrible," said Mr. Wonka with a smile. "Just imagine it. Augustus-flavored chocolate-coated Gloop! No one would buy..." Mrs. Gloop prepared for what looked to be a fearsome retort, but, at that moment, an Oompa-Loompa silently appeared at Mr. Wonka's side and tugged pointedly at the leg of his trousers. Mr. Wonka bent down, and again his smile froze as the Oompa-Loompa urgently whispered something in his ear. "Ladies and gentlemen," Wonka said, his words forced as he straightened up. "An, um, economic situation has just arisen that requires my...er...immediate attention. I have to buy some, um, stocks. Yes. I'm just going to be right over here with my associate, and I shall rejoin you momentarily."<br>Ignoring Mrs. Gloop's irate screams, Wonka and the Oompa-Loompa calmly walked over behind a tree perhaps thirty feet away, but the security system's microphones picked up every word of the conversation.  
>"It can't be all that bad, can it?"<br>"Well, sir, that depends upon your definition...but I think this counts as bad for all intents and purposes."  
>"Oh, dear." Willy Wonka stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I don't suppose we could just throw Mrs. Gloop in too and call it an accident...Wait a minute!" Mr. Wonka bent down close, and no one, not even the observers in the Security Center, could tell what it was that he said. Instantly, however, the Oompa-Loompa began nodding enthusiastically.<br>"Shall I make the preparations, sir?"  
>"Immediately! Oh...and do be a good fellow and take Mrs. Gloop along, will you?" Wonka straightened his overcoat and hat, and a genuine grin occupied his features as he strode back to his guests. "So sorry...news from my broker...very urgent, couldn't wait." He raised his hands, forestalling a renewed attack from Mrs. Gloop. "Please, dear lady, please! I would like for you to go with my associate here and I assure you we'll get this business sorted out..." He turned to look down at the Oompa-Loompa. "I want you to take Mrs. Gloop up to the Fudge Room..." Wonka winked here, though no one saw "...and help her find her son. I'm almost certain he's inside the big chocolate-mixing barrel, but if not, well...Anyway, I do apologize! So sorry! Good-by, Mrs. Gloop! Good-by! Now, everyone, if you'll follow me..."<p>

"I wonder what the devil that was about?" the Duty Officer said, watching Mrs. Gloop leaving the Chocolate Room with her escort. "I can't imagine how Mr. Wonka's going to salvage this one."  
>The Chief merely laughed. "Like I said, things have a way of solving themselves around Mr. Wonka...Hold the phone! Looks like we're about to get a song from the day shift!" And indeed they were, and no description was spared regarding the theoretical fate of Augustus Gloop, though the song only told about half of the visceral details.<br>The last notes drew to a close, and Mr. Wonka grinned broadly. "I told you they loved singing!" he cried. "Aren't they delightful? Aren't they charming? But you mustn't believe a word they said...ahem...it's all nonsense, of course, every word!"  
>And a nervous Charlie Bucket looked up at Grandpa Joe. "Are they really joking, Grandpa?"<br>"Of course they're joking," answered Grandpa Joe. "They must be joking. At least I think they're joking. They might be joking. I hope they're joking. Don't you?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: All material of familiarity is owned, copyrighted, and otherwise credited to the parties to which it belongs, that being Roald Dahl, who penned the book from which this story and its chapters are adapted, and perhaps Warner Bros. Studios for the production of the film adaptations of Dahl's book. This story merely borrows the characters for use in a different reality...

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><p>CH III: Violet's Demise<p>

"Well, the day can only get better from here, right?" the Duty Officer said as he watched the members of the tour stepping onto the great pink boat which ran along the chocolate river. He suppressed a shiver as he thought again of the scene in the Strawberry Fudge Room.  
>"I'm not paying up just yet," the Chief growled, his expression irritated. "Another hundred says that Salt goes next."<br>"Next? I thought you said there was an overwhelming chance that..."  
>"I lied, and the computer figures were all adjusted before they were released. I have it on good authority that we might have one hundred percent casualties before the day is out. You think you can handle it?"<br>The Duty Officer swallowed, his face very pale. "I...I...yes, sir."  
>"Good." The Chief slapped him cheerfully on the arm, and then his expression suddenly darkened. "Oh, no. It looks like Mr. Wonka's taking them into the Inventing Room. As if forty thousand gallons of chocolate and three hundred pounds of fudge weren't sufficient losses for one day..." He shook his head and glanced at the Duty Officer. "Make a quick run to the lavatory and splash some water on your face, kid. I have a feeling this isn't over."<p>

And indeed it wasn't. Mr. Wonka led the way through the Inventing Room, proudly displaying his finest and latest ideas, and then he stopped before the giant machine that stood at the very center of the chamber. The Duty Officer had just returned, drying his face with a paper towel, and he stopped cold when he recognized the image on the monitor. "Oh, no. Tell me that isn't what I think it is."  
>"I think I'm about to owe you another hundred," the Chief said grimly. Mr. Wonka pressed three different buttons on the flank of the huge machine, and a spectacular display of mechanical ingenuity began...like a moth drawn to flame, the Duty Officer felt his way back to his seat, unable to take his eyes off the screen. He could not even begin to imagine how the titanic machine worked, but he knew perfectly well what it did. And his eyes kept returning to Violet Beauregarde, the champion gum-chewer from America, who had been working on the piece she now had in her mouth for over three months...already, the Duty Officer could sense exactly what was about to happen. Its work complete, a tiny drawer pooped out from the side of the great machine, and the party in the Inventing Room all pressed forward, sure that what they were seeing had to be a mistake. Inside was a little grey strip, rather like cardboard.<p>

"That's all?" said Mike Teavee, disgusted.  
>"That's all," said Mr. Wonka, gazing proudly at the object. "Don't you know what it is?"<br>There was a pause. Then suddenly, Violet Beauregarde let out a cry of recognition. "It's a stick of chewing gum!"

"I know you've heard of this machine before," the Security Chief said. "Do you know anything about the tests?"  
>"No..." the Duty Officer said weakly, "Just rumors."<br>It was inevitable. The instant that Wonka announced that this new gum was the most "amazing and fabulous and sensational gum in the world," it was inevitable. Like a vast planetary body, the tiny strip of gum exerted a gravitational pull on Violet Beauregarde, one that she would invariably be compelled to obey. The Duty Officer already knew what the great machine did, and the nature of that strip of gum...through some miracle of his own alchemy, Mr. Wonka had devised the means to make a single strip of gum into a three-course meal. It would revolutionize the world, change the nature of food forever, solve all the problems of famine and world hunger at a single stroke. But that was not the reason that it was spoken of over tables in the cafeteria at mealtime...not the reason that every soul in the factory had heard of it...not the reason that it was infamous in the test labs. The Duty Officer had heard the stories; everyone had. And when Violet Beauregarde's hand shot out and seized the stick of gum over Mr. Wonka's protests, the Duty Officer could only sit and stare. It was like watching a train wreck, or the breaking of a dam...as with Augustus Gloop, some terrible force compelled him to watch.

"Stop!" said Mr. Wonka. "The gum isn't ready yet! It's not right!"  
>"Of course it's right!" said Violet. "It's working beautifully! Oh my, what lovely soup this is!"<br>"Spit it out!" said Mr. Wonka.  
>"It's changing!" said Violet, chewing and grinning both at the same time. "The second course is coming up! It's roast beef! It's tender and juicy! Oh boy, what a flavor! The baked potato is marvelous, too! It's got a crispy skin and it's all filled with butter inside!"<br>"But how interesting, Violet," said Mrs. Beauregarde, "You are such a clever girl. Keep right on chewing, kiddo!"  
>Everybody was watching Violet Beauregarde as she stood there chewing this extraordinary gum. Mr. Wonka had given up all ideas of protest, and was instead crouching half-behind the huge gum machine, taking cover as if from an imminent explosion. The Duty Officer and the Chief both stared, transfixed.<br>"Blueberry pie and cream!" shouted Violet, and again Wonka swore horribly, though no one heard him. "Here it comes! Oh my, it's perfect! It's beautiful! It's...it's exactly as though I'm swallowing it! It's as though I'm chewing and swallowing great big spoonfuls of the most marvelous blueberry pie in the world!"  
>"Good heavens!" shrieked Mrs. Beauregarde suddenly, staring at Violet, "what's happening to your nose?"<br>"Oh, be quiet, mother, and let me finish!" said Violet.  
>"It's turning blue!" screamed Mrs. Beauregarde. "Your nose is turning blue as a blueberry! And your cheeks are turning blue as well! So is your chin! Your whole face is turning blue! Violet, you're turning violet, Violet! What's happening to you?"<br>"I told you I hadn't quite got it right," Wonka said sadly. "It's the desserts. It's always the desserts."  
>Everybody was staring at Violet. Her face and hands and legs and neck, in fact the skin all over her body, as well as her hair, had turned a brilliant purplish-blue, the color of blueberry juice!<p>

"Well...here we go," the Chief said, his voice wavering slightly despite the steely expression on his face. He was staring at the screen with gritted teeth, already horribly aware of what to expect.  
>"Here what goes? What's..." the Duty Officer started to ask, but then he stopped. He could see for himself.<p>

"Violet!" screamed Mrs. Beauregarde, "You're swelling up!"  
>"I feel sick," Violet said, her expression uneasy for the first time.<br>"You're swelling up!" screamed Mrs. Beauregarde again.  
>"I feel most peculiar!" gasped Violet.<br>"Great heavens, girl!" screeched Mrs. Beauregarde. "You're blowing up like a balloon!"  
>"Like a blueberry," said Mr. Wonka, who was now taking cover behind Mr. Salt.<br>"Call a doctor!" cried Mrs. Beauregarde.  
>"Prick her with a pin!" said someone else.<br>"Save her!" cried Mrs. Beauregarde, wringing her hands.  
>But it was too late. Violet's body was swelling up and changing shape at such a rate tha within a minute it had turned into nothing less than an enormous round blue ball...a gigantic blueberry, in fact...and all that remained of Violet Beauregarde herself was a tiny pair of legs and a tiny pair of arms sticking out and a little head on top. And, slowly but steadily, she was still expanding.<br>"It always happens like that," sighed Mr. Wonka. "I've tried it twenty times on twenty different Oompa-Loompas, and they always end up as the fruit in question just before..." suddenly, it was as if he realized where he was, and instantly Mr. Wonka turned cheerily to his guests, his grin not quite masking the strain in his expression. "Well, I'm afraid that we can't take a giant blueberry on the tour with us, now can we? Not to worry, though, still plenty more to see! Come along, come along..."  
>"But I don't want a blueberry for a daughter!" yelled Mrs. Beauregarde. "You put her back this instant!"<br>Wonka's expression grew more pained, but he clicked his fingers and twenty Oompa-Loompas appeared immediately at his side. There was a faint sound that might have been an attempt to speak on the part of Violet Beauregarde...unfortunately, however, the blueberry juice was by now compressing her lungs to the point that it was impossible to make much of a sound. Her body was now perhaps ten feet in diameter...and still growing. There was no disguising the nervous looks on the features of the Oompa-Loompas as they stood behind their employer, all attempting to project reassuring smiles. "Roll Ms. Beauregarde into the boat, please," Wonka said, now visibly sweating and trying very hard to avoid looking at the shape of the giant blueberry behind him, "and take her along to the Juicing Room at once."  
>"The Juicing Room?" cried Mrs. Beauregarde. "What are they going to do to her there?"<br>"Squeeze her," said Mr. Wonka, his hands clenching and unclenching in something near panic. "But don't worry. We'll get her repaired if it's the last thing we do, though I really must insist that you come along..." Wonka shooed his guests to the door, shot one look back at the Oompa-Loompas, and mouthed a single word: "Run."  
>The instant the door closed, the leader turned to his fellows. "SHE'S GONNA BLOW!" Time seemed to slow. The Oompa-Loompas all began sprinting for the far end of the room as fast as their legs could carry them, but it was too late. They had spent far too long trying to reassure Mrs. Beauregarde and the other guests, and now they would pay for it. The explosion was massive. Bright blue gore and chunks of flesh spattered every inch of the Inventing Room, and a tidal wave of blueberry juice eight feet high rushed out through the chamber, knocking Oompa-Loompas off their feet and carrying them along in the rush of sticky blue fluid. Smaller machines were toppled and even the larger ones knocked about by the flood...the wave crashed against the walls, rebounded, and then settled, the entire room now filled with eighteen inches of juice. Shell-shocked Oompa-Loompas stood and staggered about, up to their chests in juice as they sorted out their companions...there were a few bruises and strains, but nothing serious. Except, of course, for Violet Beauregarde...<p>

The Duty Officer stared straight ahead, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open as he gazed at the monitor in pure horror. A wet hunk of meat had stuck to the main camera, and now left a greasy trail as it slid downward across the lens. The Chief snickered. "You should see the look on your face right now. Well, now I owe you three hundred...and you know why that gum machine is a legend in its own time."  
>"H-how many times did Mr. Wonka say he had tested it?"<br>"About twenty...oh, don't look at me like that! The first one was the only nasty one; after that, the test labs implemented a series of highly effective de-juicing protocols...no lasting damage whatsoever to the subjects in question."  
>"Then why didn't..."<br>The Chief let out an exasperated sigh. "The protocols were all designed for Oompa-Loompas, that's why. Not even our best could have handled the crisis you just saw, for two reasons. First, and most obviously, there was just too much juice. Secondly, the de-juicing must go into effect quickly. There was no way to get the necessary machinery into the Inventing Room, and they sure as heck couldn't get Violet Beauregarde back out through the door. That's what you get for ignoring the boss."  
>"Well...well...what..."<br>"What about Mrs. Beauregarde? I'm sure Mr. Wonka has it all figured out, kid. Don't worry about a thing. Say, you really don't look well. I can handle the console for a few minutes...go get a drink or something. Oh, check it out! Looks like another song!"  
>But the Duty Officer had already staggered from the room, and the Chief shook his head. Maybe the Duty Officer had the flu or something.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: All material of familiarity is owned, copyrighted, and otherwise credited to the parties to which it belongs, that being Roald Dahl, who penned the book from which this story and its chapters are adapted, and perhaps Warner Bros. Studios for the production of the film adaptations of Dahl's book. This story merely borrows the characters for use in a different reality...

* * *

><p>CH IV: The Fall of the Salts<p>

The other Oompa-Loompa returned ten minutes later with a Styrofoam cup and a handful of little white pills; he popped them into his mouth at the door and washed them down with a cup of hot chocolate, made so strong that it was the color of coffee. Tossing the cup into the garbage bin, the Duty Officer resumed his seat. "I'm sorry, sir...I haven't missed anything, have I?"  
>"Not much. The boss showed them the Fizzy Lifting Drinks, and then the Square Candies That Look Round. Interesting stuff, of course, but not really of much concern. Oh, here we are. Looks like they're stopping at the Nut Room. Keep an eye on Mr. Salt, people! He runs a nut company, and he's about to get an inside look at our own methods! I want to make sure he's with the group at all times!"<br>"Yes, sir!"

"All right," said Mr. Wonka, "stop here for a moment and catch your breath, and take a peek through the glass panel of this door. But don't go in! Whatever you do, don't go into the Nut Room! If you go in, you'll disturb the squirrels!"  
>Everyone crowded around the door.<br>"Oh look, Grandpa, look!" cried Charlie Bucket.  
>"Squirrels!" shouted Veruca Salt.<br>"Jeepers!" said Mike Teavee.  
>It was an amazing sight. One hundred squirrels were seated upon high stools around a large table. On the table, there were mounds and mounds of walnuts, and the squirrels were all working away like mad, shelling the walnuts at tremendous speed.<br>"These squirrels are specially trained for getting the nuts out of walnuts," Mr. Wonka explained.  
>"Why use squirrels?" Mike Teavee asked. "Why not use Oompa-Loompas?"<br>"Because," said Mr. Wonka, "Oompa-Loompas can't get walnuts out of walnut shells in one piece. They always break them in two. Nobody except squirrels can get walnuts whole out of walnut shells every time. It is extremely difficult. But in my factory, I insist upon using only whole walnuts. Therefore I have to have squirrels to do the job. Aren't they wonderful, the way they get those nuts out! And see how they first tap each walnut with their knuckles to be sure it's not a bad one! And if it's bad, it makes a hollow sound, and they don't bother to open it. They just throw it down the garbage chute. There! Look! Watch that squirrel nearest to us! I think he's got a bad one now!"  
>They watched the little squirrel as he tapped the walnut shell with his knuckles. He cocked his head to one side, listening intently, then suddenly he threw the nut over his shoulder into a large hole in the floor.<br>"Daddy!" cried Veruca Salt suddenly, "I've decided I want a squirrel! Get me one of those squirrels!"  
>"Don't be silly, sweetheart," said Mr. Salt. "These squirrels all belong to Mr. Wonka."<br>"I don't care about that!" shouted Veruca. "I want one. All I've got at home is two dogs and four cats and six bunny rabbits and two parakeets and three canaries and a green parrot and a turtle and a bowl of goldfish and a cage of white mice and a silly old hamster! I want a squirrel!"  
>"All right, my pet," Mr. Salt said soothingly. "Daddy'll get you a squirrel just as soon as he possibly can."<br>"But I don't want just any old squirrel! I want a trained squirrel!"  
>Trying to keep his expression pleasant, Mr. Salt stepped forward impressively and drew a fat wallet from within his perfectly-creased suit jacket. "Very well, Wonka, how much d'you want for one of these crazy squirrels? Name your price."<br>"They're not for sale," Mr. Wonka answered calmly. "She can't have one."  
>"Who says I can't!" shouted Veruca. "I'm going in to grab me a squirrel this very minute!"<br>"Don't!" said Mr. Wonka quickly, but he was too late. The girl had already thrown open the door and rushed in. The moment she entered the room, one hundred squirrels stopped what they were doing and turned their heads and stared at her with small black beady eyes. Veruca Salt stopped also, and stared back at them. Then her gaze fell upon a pretty little squirrel sitting nearest to her at the end of the table. The squirrel was holding a walnut in its paws. Veruca smiled and took a step forward...  
>"Don't touch that squirrel's nuts!" cried Mr. Wonka. "It'll make him crazy!"<br>The Duty Officer glanced over at the Chief. "Did he just say what I think he did?"  
>"I think so. Kind of surprising the things you can get away with in context, isn't it?"<br>"All right," Veruca said, "I'll have you!"  
>She reached out her hands to grab the squirrel...but as she did so...in that first split second when her hands started to go forward, there was a sudden flash of movement in the room, like a flash of brown lightning, and every single squirrel around the table took a flying leap toward her and landed on her body.<br>Twenty-five of them caught hold of her right arm, and pinned it down.  
>Twenty-five more caught hold of her left arm, and pinned that down.<br>Twenty-five caught hold of her right leg and anchored it to the ground.  
>Twenty-four caught hold of her left leg.<br>And the one remaining squirrel (obviously the leader of them all) climbed up on to her shoulder and started tap-tap-tapping the wretched girl's head with its knuckles.  
>"Save her!" cried Mr. Salt. "Veruca! Come back! What are they doing to her?"<br>"They're testing her to see if she's a bad nut," said Mr. Wonka, again looking rather nervous.

The Chief picked up the phone. "Waste Disposal, this is Main Security. The garbage chute in the Nut Room leads to Incinerator Plant Three, yes?...All right. Is Three active today?...No, it's Tuesday...You're quite sure?...Well, because I think someone's about to go down the chute...No, it's not Maintenance, though she'll still probably manage to clean the sides of the chute on the way down...Wait, what?...You're sure about that?...Yeah, I think you'd better talk to him...Yeah, I'll hold."  
>"What is it, sir?" the Duty Officer looked nervous again, and not at all well.<br>The Security chief shrugged. "Probably nothing. Normally, only two of the incinerators are operating on any one day. We have some extra garbage, though...you remember they shut down the incinerators last weekend to do a maintenance check? Well, anyway, stuff stacked up over the weekend, so Disposal said they lit an extra incinerator today to get rid of it. The guy I talked to said he's pretty sure they lit Number Four, not Two, but he's checking with his supervisor just in case...Oh, hello...Yes, I'm still here...WAIT, WHAT?" At that moment, however, there was a scream, and the Chief looked up at the monitor just in time to see Veruca Salt disappear into the yawning black pit of the garbage chute. He stopped, looked at the monitor, then looked back at the phone in his hand. "Ummm...never mind...no, no; I'm quite sure everything's just fine...have a lovely day. Thank you." He set the phone back down in its cradle. "Oh, dear."

"Now see here, Wonka!" cried Mr. Salt. "I think you've gone just a shade too far this time, I do indeed. My daughter may be a bit of a frump...I don't mind admitting it...but that doesn't mean you can roast her to a crisp! I'll have you know that I'm extremely cross about this, I really am!"  
>"Oh, don't be cross, my dear sir!" said Mr. Wonka, humming rather loudly in an attempt to block out the distant screams echoing up through the garbage chute. "She may not even have gone down at all. She may be stuck in the chute just below the entrance hole, and if that's the case, all you'll have to do is go in and pull her up again."<br>Hearing this, Mr. Salt dashed into the Nut Room and ran over to the hole in the floor and peered in.  
>"Veruca!" he shouted. "Are you down there?"<br>There was no answer, save for some oily smoke.  
>Mr. Salt bent further forward to get a closer look. He was now kneeling right on the edge of the hole with his head down and his enormous behind sticking up in the air. It was a dangerous position to be in. He needed only one tiny push..."Oh bugger," said Mr. Wonka. For the squirrels suddenly rushed forward...<p>

"No, I quite assure you it's not Maintenance!" the Chief said into the phone. "I understand, yes...Well, sometimes the incinerator makes strange noises, or so I've heard. It's probably nothing...Well, shut down the incinerator by all means if you've been instructed to by Management...No, no, I wouldn't open it if I were you, not until it cools down...No, there might be some tapioca or something that will explode into flames if exposed to outside air...No, I'd just wait for Management to send someone down...Look, why don't you fellows take the rest of the day off, all right? No, I'm quite sure...Mr. Wonka has been giving some time off for the holidays lately...Yes, I'm aware that it's the first day of February...No, I think it's a sort of early Thanksgiving thing...No, I absolutely guarantee that you most certainly did not hear anyone fall down the incinerator chute...Where did I get an idea like that? Well, where did you get an idea like that, you sicko? Now, just don't worry about it...Yes, yes...Yes, Goodbye." The Chief looked over at the Duty Officer and grinned. "The CEO of Salt's Nut company gets killed in the Nut Room. Now that's what I call ironic...you know, you really don't look good at all. You might want to go see the doctor. Look, I'll give you one more break, but you either need to get a hold of yourself or else hand the console off. I can't afford to have you at anything less than a hundred percent today. Say, wait a second...you're gonna miss the song again!" But the Duty Officer was already gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: All material of familiarity is owned, copyrighted, and otherwise credited to the parties to which it belongs, that being Roald Dahl, who penned the book from which this story and its chapters are adapted, and perhaps Warner Bros. Studios for the production of the film adaptations of Dahl's book. This story merely borrows the characters for use in a different reality...

* * *

><p>CH V: Mike's Big Exit<p>

"I've never seen anything like it!" cried Mr. Wonka with a little fake chuckle, pulling at his collar as if he were too warm. "The children are disappearing like rabbits! But you mustn't worry about it! They'll all come out in the wash!"  
>"What is that smell?" Mike Teavee asked emphatically, wrinkling his nose...a horrible stink of burning flesh had oozed out of the Nut Room and into the corridor.<br>"Why whatever are you talking about?" said Mr. Wonka with a smile, waving streamers of greasy smoke out of the air. "I don't believe I smell anything at all..."  
>"Are you kid..." Mike Teavee started to reply, but Mr. Wonka was already sweeping away down the corridor.<br>"Right! Off we go, then!"

The Chief gestured. "Take over here for a minute, will you? I've got ten minutes off the clock." Two other Oompa-Loompas took over at the main security station, and the Chief made his way down the hallway toward the break room. He pushed open the door, but then suddenly stopped. He heard something, a voice...nearby and apparently muttering to itself. The Chief walked forward to the corner and looked down the adjacent corridor. The Duty Officer was leaning up against the wall, the hand at his side visibly trembling...the other hand was raised up in front of his face. He was turned away from the Chief, but the Chief could clearly tell what he was doing...against all regulation, there was a thin trail of cigarette smoke rising above the Duty Officer's head. The Chief simply sighed and headed back into the breakroom for a cup of hot cocoa. Maybe the other Loompa just wasn't cut out for Security work. Oh, well...it didn't suit everyone. Draining his chocolate, he calmly made his way back to the Security Center's door, swiped his keycard, and made his way back to the main console. The Duty Officer joined him a few minutes later, and the Chief pretended not to notice the other's haggard appearance...or the fact that he picked up a pencil and began obssessively chewing at the eraser. The Chief shook his head. The Duty Officer probably wasn't getting enough sleep.  
>"Any updates?" he threw the question out to the entire room, and instantly Station One replied.<br>"The elevator's making an unscheduled stop, sir. The Television-Chocolate Room."  
>"Ah!" The Chief reached over and slapped the Duty Officer on the shoulder. "You ever seen a bar of chocolate sent by television before?"<br>The Duty Officer shook his head silently and, despite his appearance, which was by now deathly ill, sat up straighter in his chair as Mr. Wonka explained the basic concept. And when a massive bar of chocolate was suddenly beamed into oblivion, to be reassembled at normal size at the far end of the room fifty feet away, the Duty Officer dropped his pencil in surprise. "Something, eh?" The Chief was grinning again.  
>"But why does the bar get so much smaller?" the Duty Officer asked.<br>The Chief snorted. "Well, Mr. Wonka will tell you that it's because everything is smaller on television...you know...you take a picture of a six-foot man, and it comes out five inches tall on the screen. That's just what he says when he doesn't feel like explaining multi-dimensional physics. The fact is, I talked to one of the guys down in Research and Development...he says it's a bit different. The transfer process isn't exactly perfect; the fact is that a lot of the molecular structure breaks down en route. When the television reassembles the chocolate bar there, it's actually just putting back together all of the particles it can easily identify, which is only a small part of the whole."  
>"What about the rest? They just vanish off into space?"<br>"No, no...I saw a picture once...here." The Chief punched a few keys, and brought up a separate screen to one side of the main monitor. "Technically, I'm not supposed to be doing this on the clock, but..." The Chief punched in a series of search words, and then clicked open the first file that the computer brought up. It was a video file, showing Oompa-Loompa technicians in what was quite clearly the same white room that was displayed on the main monitor...they were walking around the edges of a huge multi-colored pile of what looked like melted chocolate with different shades of food coloring streaked through it. Here and there were also bits of identifiable paper and foil...pieces of a gigantic wrapper.  
>"That's what happened when they tried to reassemble the entire thing?"<br>"Yep. Made one hell of a mess, and taste testers reported that the chocolate, even the parts that weren't contaminated, tasted horrible afterward. It seems that the airwaves can only send a small part of the chocolate bar successfully...and the further you try to send it, the smaller the part that comes through. Even Mr. Wonka has admitted that the technology still needs a lot more work; this program has been running for years, but we're just now to the point where we can send a bar of chocolate fifty feet. And the bulk of it just ends up going into the filtration system...that entire room is hermetically sealed, with ionic filters in every duct. Nothing gets in or out."  
>"How do you know all this?" The Duty Officer's voice was something approaching envious.<br>The Chief smiled. "Head of Security. It's my job to know. Don't worry, kid, I'm sure that someday..." At that instant, however, there was a flash of light on the monitors, and the Chief's sentence stopped cold. "What the..." Based upon the expressions of the figures in the room, they were thinking something similar, and then the Chief realized..."Oh, hell." Mike Teavee was gone.

"Great heavens, he's gone!" shouted Mr. Teavee.  
>Mr. Wonka hurried forward and placed a hand gently on the man's shoulder. "We shall have to hope for the best," he said. "We must pray that your little boy will come out unharmed at the other end. But, in the meantime, please follow me over here...right through this door." Wonka quickly shooed Mr. Teavee, Charlie, and Grandpa Joe into the corridor, and then ducked back into the Television-Chocolate Room. "Now, I'll just be a moment..." Wonka turned to the head of the Oompa-Loompa researchers. "Any suggestions will be appreciated, gentlemen."<br>The lead scientist shrugged. "Well, sir, it would be a simple matter to get him back...but he would come out about four inches tall. Or we could try for the whole package but...I don't have to tell you the risks we'd be taking. Plus there's still a lot of chocolate up there. We try to put him back together with that much foreign material in the mix..."  
>"Any way we could sort it out?"<br>"Not at this point, sir. The little twit just mixed his own atoms in with several hundred pounds of milk chocolate."  
>Wonka nodded grimly. "Well, let's hope for the best. Begin reconstruction, if you please."<br>"Yes, sir." Wonka ducked back out of the room, and one of the scientists began pressing buttons on his console.  
>"We're getting something. I think we have him! Wait...molecular weight is reading too heavy! Optics, do you have anything?"<br>"Spectrometer's definitely showing chocolate! Abort, abort!" But it was too late. One instant, there was nothing at the far end of the room aside from a television set and a sofa; Mike Teavee could potentially reappear at any point within several feet of the set itself, being too large to reassemble inside, and so the Oompa-Loompa on the couch had now stood up and backed a respectful distance away. The next instant, something huge reassembled itself with a crackling of electricity and a smell of ozone, smashing the television, the sofa, and the observer Loompa all in one go. The scientists stood frozen, their minds paralyzed with the sheer horror of what they were seeing. And in the Security Center, the Duty Officer took one look and wretched, sending a colorful spray of vomit across the monitor bank. A hideous pulsing mass had taken shape, an amorphous thing of chocolate fused with human flesh...misshapen limbs clawed blindly at the air, and a half-dozen mouths opened to let out a horrendous screeching sound. And then a chocolatey tentacle whipped out and seized one of the Loompa scientists...and instantly the paralysis was broken. The technicians and scientists ran everywhere, some of them running desperately for the doors, while several more grabbed onto the unfortunate who had been seized by the horrific chocolate monster. But they were not strong enough, and he was reeled backwards into a gaping central maw that opened on top of the creature, a vast and lopsided perversion of a human mouth, surrounded by three bulging black eyes and filled with jagged plates of bone instead of teeth. There was a scream as the hapless scientist was devoured, and the monster lurched forward, snatching up additional prey...the Chief was shouting orders nonstop, and typing in commands wildly on his keyboard.  
>"SEAL THE ROOM, DAMN IT! WE CAN'T LET THAT THING OUT INTO THE FACTORY! TELL ME WE HAVE MEN ON THE WAY!"<br>"YES, SIR! THREE SECURITY TEAMS!" The technicians did not last long, broken and ripped and hurled about the room in pieces, blood spattering the pristine white walls and ceiling in long, glistening trails. A door opened and a dozen security personnel rushed into the room; for the briefest of instants, they stood horrorstruck, and then their training took over. Loompa-sized shotguns pumped round after round into the monstrosity, which reared up and howled in pain. But it was far from defeated; a horrid, arm-like appendage formed out of the monster's shifting flesh, long razors of bone eviscerating half of the security Loompas with one swipe...the remainder stood their ground bravely, but the Chief could already tell that they were doomed.  
>"SHOTGUNS WON'T DO IT! WE NEED SOMETHING HEAVIER!" The last of the first security detail fell; the door automatically closed and locked again, but the monster did not need it. The horrid creature turned and ripped into the nearest wall, trying to tear its way out of the Television-Chocolate Room and into the corridor beyond...<p>

"What's going on?" Grandpa Joe cried in alarm; Wonka had hurried them down one hallway after another, though the sounds of screaming and gunfire echoed after them, combined with the roars of something inhuman. Mr. Teavee had disappeared down a side passage with a grim-faced Oompa-Loompa, given a quick assurance that everything with Mike would be sorted out momentarily.  
>"Oh, nothing, nothing," said Willy Wonka airily, though there was now disguising the sweat that had broken out across his face. "It is the Television Room after all...I suspect the Oompa-Loompas are probably watching a John Carpenter movie. I tell them to keep the volume down, after all, but sometimes, you know..."<p>

The chocolate beast reached the corridor beyond...but found a surprise there to meet it. "TORCH IT!" A voice bellowed, and instantly tongues of liquid fire blasted from a dozen flamethrowers. Burning, the monster let out a screeching howl and retreated back into the Television Room. The Oompa-Loompas followed closely with their flamethrowers; the monster drew itself up to attack, but was instantly bathed in flames. Tentacles and disproportioned limbs lashed out fruitlessly; the hideous creature reared up, let out a final shriek, and then collapsed in a hissing mass of burning flesh and boiling chocolate. It was dead.  
>The Chief blew out a heavy breath. "I'm just glad that thing had a weakness to fire. It always works in the movies. And that was nothing. There was this one time..." The Chief looked over to the Duty Officer...only the other Oompa-Loompa was no longer in his seat...rather, he was crumpled on the floor, passed out cold from shock. The Chief shook his head and chuckled. "Poor guy," he muttered to himself as he picked up the phone and dialed the number of the infirmary. "Overwork."<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: All material of familiarity is owned, copyrighted, and otherwise credited to the parties to which it belongs, that being Roald Dahl, who penned the book from which this story and its chapters are adapted, and perhaps Warner Bros. Studios for the production of the film adaptations of Dahl's book. This story merely borrows the characters for use in a different reality...

* * *

><p>CH VI: Revelation<p>

"Which room shall it be next?" said Mr. Wonka as he turned away and darted into the elevator. "Come on! Hurry up! We must get going! And how many children are there left now?"  
>Little Charlie looked at Grandpa Joe, and Grandpa Joe looked back at little Charlie.<br>"But Mr. Wonka," Grandpa Joe called after him, "there's...there's only Charlie left now."  
>Mr. Wonka swung round and stared at Charlie. There was a silence. Charlie stood there holding tightly onto Grandpa Joe's hand.<br>"You mean you're the only one left?" Mr. Wonka said, pretending to be surprised.  
>"Why yes," whispered Charlie. "Yes."<br>Mr. Wonka suddenly exploded with excitement. "But my dear boy," he cried out, "that means you've won!" He rushed out of the elevator and started shaking Charlie's hand so furiously that it nearly came off. "Oh, I do congratulate you!" he cried. "I really do! I'm absolutely delighted! It couldn't be better! How wonderful this is! I had a hunch, you know, right from the beginning, that it was going to be you! Well done, Charlie, well done! This is terrific! Now the fun is really going to start! But we mustn't dilly! We mustn't dally! There's even less time to lose now than there was before! We have an enormous number of things to do before the day is out! Just think of the arrangements that have to be made! And the people we have to fetch! But before we can do any of that...there's just one little thing." Mr. Wonka had by now herded Charlie and Grandpa Joe back into the Great Glass Elevator, and he pressed a button saying "PRIVATE OFFICE." A series of shafts took them in various directions down to another corridor, at the end of which was a magnificent set of double doors in a truly shocking shade of purple, and proudly bearing a golden plaque which read "Willy Wonka, Chief Executive Officer." Mr. Wonka opened the door and eagerly waved the two others inside, bidding them be seated in a pair of enormous armchairs before a magnificent desk. "Now," Mr. Wonka said with a smile, "wait right here for just one teensy moment...I have one brief little bit of business to attend to, and then we'll be right back on track!" He ducked out quickly, closing the door behind him. Grandpa Joe and Charlie looked at each other, and neither one of them noticed the gas seeping out of the vents until they were both struck by a sudden drowsiness...

With the future heir and his guardian blissfully sleeping away, ignorant of the passage of time, Willy Wonka ducked back into the Great Glass Elevator and flipped up what appeared to be a decorative panel, revealing another set of buttons. He pressed one, and the elevator plummeted straight down to a chamber far beneath the factory. The doors opened on a rather different sort of corridor, which led to a rather different sort of room. A dozen tanks full of pale blue liquid glowed in the half-light of a darkened laboratory chamber, attendant Oompa-Loompas busily tending the five cylinders at the far end. The chief scientist quickly made his way over to Mr. Wonka. "Ah, hello, sir."  
>"How are they coming along?"<br>"Nearly finished, except for Mike Teavee, of course. It was difficult to get a workable genetic sample. I estimate about four hours before he'll be ready."  
>"I'd like to see them."<br>"Certainly, sir." The head scientist led Wonka over to the cylinders, talking as they went. "You must forgive me, sir...when I first heard what you planned to do after Gloop and the transfer pipe, I must admit I had my doubts. Of course, we've been engineering and cloning specimens for years...sheep genetically modified to produce cotton candy, candy apple trees, the Juju-bees...I don't need to tell you that engineering a single specimen is exacting work, and so it is far simpler to clone from that one perfect template than to try to create a new organism each time. But for all the complexity of the things we had cloned thus far, I still doubted our ability to clone a human being. It was, however, far simpler than it looked. And I think we did extraordinarily well...all things considered."  
>"All things considered?" Wonka said, looking down at the scientist. But then his eyes caught the figures floating in the milky solution of the cloning tanks. "Hmmm. Well, that's... interesting."<br>The Oompa-Loompa shrugged. "I'm afraid it's the best we could do. I think we've got the memories all right...Research dug up everything they possibly could, and we filled in the blanks with some very good creative writing. But there are some issues with physiology...Gloop, of course, wasn't born that fat...we could try to plump him up a bit, but he's not going to look anything like he did before. Beauregarde, well...truthfully, I don't know what to say about her. Our tissue sample was irrevocably contaminated, and the blue color just kept spreading as we grew the specimen. The two that came out perfectly were the Salts, and we'll still have to see about Teavee. He's still in the inception chamber...his genetic samples were severely corrupted, and at the moment he's fully developed but about four inches tall. I don't presume to understand why, unless his DNA was affected by the television transfer process."  
>"Why not just stick him in the taffy puller?"<br>"Sir?"  
>"The taffy puller...or the gum stretcher. I don't care which."<br>"I suppose that would work, especially if we combine the stretching process with induced ossification of synthetic tissue, effectively using artificial means to expand the structures of his existing endoskeleton."  
>"You can say that again," said Wonka, beaming.<br>"Which part?"  
>"I don't know. I haven't a clue what you just said."<br>"I apologize, sir. Scientific terminology is a habit."  
>"Oh, I didn't mean that. I meant that I wasn't paying attention."<br>"Oh."  
>"What of the parents?"<br>"Ah yes...that. If you'll follow me..." The scientist led the way into another chamber where three adults, Mrs. Gloop, Mrs. Beauregarde, and Mr. Teavee, were all locked into restraining chairs, their eyes forcibly held open and a series of miniature television screens held in place above each of their faces. Above the various images and sounds of the rather harsh mental programming, one set of words could be heard again and again: "These ARE your children." The scientist looked at the scene with distaste. "I hated to do it this way, but there wasn't any other known method that would work in the time allotted. Oh well...they'll probably be better for it in the end."  
>As they entered the main laboratory again, Wonka stopped and stood, gazing reflectively at the cloning cylinders.<br>"Is everything all right, sir?"  
>"Yes, yes. I was just considering the future of this technology. That, and thinking about a new flavor of gumdrop I've been meaning to develop."<br>"what do you mean, sir?"  
>"About the gumdrop? Well, you see..."<br>"Forgive me, sir, but actually I meant the part about the technology."  
>"Oh, that! Well, there are any number of applications! Just think...you've proven that we have the means to make a perfect duplicate of an independent, self-aware being. And if we could make one clone, we could make a hundred..." Willy Wonka's voice drifted off then, his eyes seeming to look off into the depths of some wondrous and unknown future. And while he would trust his employer with his very life, the chief scientist still felt a chill at Wonka's expression. But neither of them, not even the great Wonka, could imagine just how important the work being done in this laboratory would become...<p>

Grandpa Joe and Charlie both snapped awake at the same instant. For a brief moment, both of them felt a sudden and frightening sense of vertigo...but then the sensation cleared, and they both looked around, remembering instantly where they were. A few seconds later, Mr. Willy Wonka came through the door, and led them both into the Great Glass Elevator, his excitement palpable. Not long afterward, the elevator would burst through the roof of the factory and soar into the sky and Willy Wonka would reveal the incredible news that he had chosen Charlie Bucket to be the heir to his empire...though not before making a quick pass down over the front gates to watch as the other four children exited the factory, all of them alive and well. Augustus Gloop was much thinner, ostensibly from being sucked up the chocolate pipe...Violet Beauregarde was still an alarming shade of blue...Veruca and Mr. Salt were both covered from head to foot in smelly garbage...and Mike Teavee was now about ten feet tall and as thin as a wire. The Public Relations Department managed to put out good cover stories, and so everyone dismissed these peculiarities. And, in all the excitement of that great day, no one noticed the bemused expressions of the children as they left the factory, or the blank smiles on the faces of their parents. In the space of a few years, the effectiveness of the subliminal programming would wear off a bit, and the various parents would all come to realize that something strange had indeed happened on the day of the great factory tour, and that their children were all unmistakably...different. But by the time the realization came, all of the parents had also come to wonder how they had ever lived with their offspring before...or in Mrs. Salt's case, how she had ever managed to stand her husband. And so no one thought about it very much, and they all lived happily ever after...because, to be brutally honest, they were all much happier with the clones than with their own offspring.


End file.
